


Trust Issues

by Ruja



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awkward Sex, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sherlock Makes Deductions, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruja/pseuds/Ruja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock attempts to deduce John's sex life. Realizations are had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay peeps, this is my first venture into the world of Johnlock. Somewhat new to writing. Gotta start somewhere, right?
> 
> I am American and not entirely familiar with British dialects, but I did my best, tried to research what I could. If anything's off just say so. 
> 
> Also I appreciate constructive criticism. I am learning! And there's always room for improvement.
> 
> Oh and real quick, this is unbeta-ed. I AM IN NEED A OF A BETA. If interested, let me know please!
> 
> Alright, on to the story.

“John. Honestly. What is the fascination with sex? It’s disgusting.”

John looks up from his book. Sherlock had been quiet a few hours, staring at the ceiling on the couch. It was nice, quiet. “Right, time for the sex talk, eh?” John scratches his forehead, readying himself for the conversation about to be had.

“It’s pleasurable, yes.” Sherlock continues, “necessary for procreation. But there are steps taken, to prevent procreation, so obviously it’s mainly enjoyed for the pleasure. I can receive pleasure by my own hand. What is the point of bringing another person into it? They have their own needs, why would I be interested in fulfilling another person’s needs when my priority is myself?”

“Sherlock, your ignorance is showing.” John’s eyes do not leave the book, although his concentration is wavering. 

Sherlock perches himself on the edge of the sofa. “Ignorance?” He says, “Elaborate.”

Time to wrap up the book. He places his bookmark and closes it, placing it on the end table attention turned towards Sherlock. A glance shows John that Sherlock is awaiting his reply, although he’s not sure how he’s going to explain the details of sex to a self-proclaimed sociopath. “Sherlock, when two people are in love…” John trails off, collecting his ideas in his head. “They want to...touch each other.”

“John. I don’t need this described to me like I’m some virgin. I know about sex. I know it’s pleasurable and...passionate. I’ve never understood the whole passionate aspect of it but perhaps because I’ve never experienced it.”

“So…” John turns his eyes, “you are a virgin? Like Mycroft…”

“Mycroft.” Sherlock says it like a disease. “He’s a sod. But he’s correct, I have never indulged in the act.” 

“Sherlock.” John says, “where is this coming from?”

“The pub, John. Do you understand?”

And...nope. John is not talking about the pub.

“The blonde. I saw the strand of blonde hair on your shoulder, on Thursday night. You were intimately involved with her, where? Obviously not here, and obviously not her place because she lives far and is married. Oh, but she didn’t want you to know about that part I would imagine, otherwise you would’ve stayed the night there, but you were home at approximately midnight.”

“And...there it is. Right. I’m getting a drink.” 

“It was quick, dirty. You felt shame. You are not that guy, John, who shags and runs.”

“Sherlock.” John sighs across the kitchen, loud enough for Sherlock to hear. “Can you just, not?”

“Am I upsetting you, John?”

“I’m certainly not proud of the alleyway shag, no.”

John pours the whiskey into a lowball glass with some ice and downs it in one gulp. It burns his throat and ears, hit by a dizzy spike. 

“Okay, Sherlock.” John says, after a moment. “Please don’t deduce me. Especially not my sex life. I’m your friend, if there’s anything you’d like to know, just ask.”

“I simply don’t understand, normally I can understand things, John, better than anyone. This I don’t understand.”

John takes a seat in his armchair. “I was lonely. I was drinking my sorrows away. An attractive woman shows interest to me in that state, of course I’m going to grab that opportunity and run.”

“And what could possibly make you feel lonely?”

“I just am. It’s stupid, but I’m not seeing anyone. I have...needs. I just like to…” John looks down, suddenly feeling vulnerable, “...be wanted. Sometimes.”

Sherlock’s head tilts, and John immediately regrets his confession. 

“I’m just an ordinary old sod.”

“John.”

“Yeah.”

“Wrong.”

“No.”

“Yes, wrong. I’ve literally spent the past five hours, lying on this couch, thinking of you. Why am I thinking of you? I’m trying to understand you, trying to understand why you feel the need to lower yourself to the deeds of ordinary people when you are capable and deserving of better.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Sherlock continues, “I feel something, akin to guilt. I feel something for you, like I want it to be better. What could I do?”

Staring, John doesn’t say anything.

“And then I thought, if I could provide your sexual needs for you, you wouldn’t feel the need to be ashamed. Because we are something. We…”

Pacing is interrupted and suddenly his lips form into a perfect O as a realization hits him.

“It’s about trust, isn’t it! Yes! Your mood is awry over a trust problem. You didn’t trust her, and now you know why you didn’t. She betrayed your trust. Do you understand?”

“Uh..”

“It’s not about love, John. It’s not about romance. It’s about trust. Oh, it makes perfect sense!” And just like that Sherlock is braced on the arms on either side of John, in his face. Inches apart.

“I know what you need, John.” His eyes are staring down at John, staring hard. It’s unsettling.

“Don’t you feel it too? I trust you, you trust me. I know you do, which is why we should do it.”

John opens his mouth to talk, promptly closing it. “Um. Sherlock-”

“You’re not gay.”

“I’m not gay.” John says in one breath.

“Why should that matter,” Sherlock retreats off the chair, towering over John’s seated position. “We would just be friends helping each other. In fact, it would be useful for cases. I need firsthand experience with sex.”

“So..let me get this straight. You think we should have sex with each other, us. You and I,” John points back and forth, “because...we trust each other?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Right.” John says, rubbing both his eyes. He might need more to drink.

“John.”

“Jesus, what!?”

“I’ve had opportunities. I’ve never taken them. I want it to be you.”

“And what is so bloody special about me? You keep saying you trust me. I trust you. Trust, what the hell is the bloody deal with trust! It takes a hell of a lot more than trust, it takes...physical attraction.”

A moment. A heady stare between them.

“You’re not attracted to me.”

“I didn’t say that. I meant-”

“It’s fine.”

“...why would you be attracted to me? I’m just...me.”

Suddenly Sherlock is back in front of his face, inches apart, just like before.

“Would I do this if I weren’t?” And just like that, the space between them is closed by Sherlock, mouths drawing together. John is too stunned before realizing what’s happening, before he returns the kiss. 

It becomes deeper, as John is getting into it, and then…

Sherlock pulls back.

“Do you understand now?”

John, stunned, somehow manages to nod, agape.

“You...want me?”

“I want you, John.”

“And this isn’t uh...an experiment of some sort? I’m not a giant lab rat to you right now?”

Sherlock’s brows draw. 

“Right. Um.”

“Would you like me to kiss you again?” 

“Oh god, yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

John pulls away from the kiss, heady with a need for oxygen. They’d been going at it around ten minutes, at some point Sherlock got to a kneeling position on either side of John’s legs. Breathless, their faces inches apart, and Sherlock attempts to pull him in for another kiss to which John turns his face to the side.

“Hold on.”

Sherlock urgently brings his lips to his cheek, placing small kisses down to his jaw, to which John interrupts, “Stop, hold on.”

“What?”

“I really like kissing you.” 

“So I can see.” Sherlock impatiently searches John’s mouth again to resume the kiss.

“Hold on, if we keep doing this, it’s going to lead to something I’m not exactly..sure I’m ready for.”

Sherlock searches his eyes for a moment, brows drawing into confusion. “So you’re thinking about having sex.”

“It could lead to that, yes.”

“You’re aroused. Seems the logical conclusion that you should have an orgasmic release.”

“Logically, yeah.”

“So what is the problem?”

“Sex...changes things. Complicates things.”

“You’re perfectly capable of having meaningless sex, John.”

“No, it’s different, it wouldn’t be meaningless with you.”

Sherlock’s features tense into an expression John can’t make out exactly, and Sherlock jumps off the chair, off of John. He begins to pace across the living area.

“So it wouldn’t be meaningless with me. But it is with others.” 

“Right,” John says, clearly getting irritated with that subject, knowing he means the other night with the alleyway.

“What would it mean to sleep with me? Tell me, John.”

John runs his hands through his hair, down his face, finally resting his head in his hand. Sometimes Sherlock needs very basic things explained, the man may be brilliant but he can also be so daft.

“Okay, so.” John starts, “the woman from the other night. She didn’t mean anything to me, like a means to an end. I got my rocks off, and I suppose she wanted to make some point to her husband or something of that sort.”

Sherlock is staring at him, listening intently. 

“You, on the other hand, mean something to me.”

“I’m just your friend…”

“Exactly. Are you getting it?”

“But we aren’t romantically involved, I don’t see why anything should be complicated.”

“No, we’re not. That’s exactly why we shouldn’t.”

“But friends can have sex without consequences, I believe they call it friends-with-benefits.”

“It wouldn’t be like that, with you. I won’t be able to disconnect myself.”

“But John,” Sherlock jumps and seemingly within a second, is back in front of John’s face. “I really need to know sex. I need to know it inside and out, it’s  
“Important, how?”

“I have these thoughts. I’m not familiar with this, but when I look over at you, and you’re so...you. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t imagine why you would need to seek the company of that...that  
who puts no value in you when you can...when I can…” Sherlock trails off, interrupting himself mid-thought and turning his gaze downward. 

It clicks in John’s head what’s going on. “Is this what you’re so upset about?”

“I’m not upset,” Sherlock lies, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re jealous!”

“No.” Sherlock says quickly.

Everything suddenly makes sense in his head. It makes John giddy for reasons he’d rather not admit to, and he takes on an air of concern, ahems, and composes himself.

John licks his lips, “So you’re trying to say-”

“Shut up.” Sherlock interrupts him.

“-that having sex with me...you would...value me.”

“John.”

“Oh...” John says, “It would have meaning to you is what you’re saying.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sherlock paces, stressed, embarrassed. John had never noticed so many emotions running through Sherlock’s face before. “I can make the distinction. I made the terms clear, friends with benefits.”

“Because you have so much experience to draw from?”

John looks up at Sherlock, a glare of daggers appears to be directed towards him at the sarcastic comment.

“Do not make me into the blushing  
Such a stupid concept. I’ve done my research. The alleyway, the shame you felt. You hated yourself for it, but no not only that, you hated her too. You hate her for lying to you about her marital status.”

“Sherlock-”

“You want sex to mean something!”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“And it would mean something to do it with me...oh.” Sherlock stops pacing, realization hitting him. “John…”

John shrugs with a comical expression. Time is still for a moment it seems, while they stare at each other. Sherlock breaks the silence with a chuckle, causing John to do the same.

“Wonder what we should do about this, yeah?” John stands up, making a few steps towards Sherlock.

“Only one solution to this problem.”

And Sherlock makes the final steps towards John and just like that they’re kissing.

\---

It started with a kiss, to a snog, to Sherlock breathlessly murmuring “Bedroom?” And somehow John finds himself in Sherlock’s bedroom snogging with his flatmate on the bed, flat on his back, pillow under his head. The kiss is heady, passionate, that John barely remembers stumbling to his current position. The kiss never broke.

“Oh my god…” John says, laughing.

“What?”

“How did I end up here?”

“I could run you through it, but we might be here all day. Wasting precious time to be used for other things.” Sherlock chases his mouth, “how about we resume more important matters at hand?”

Kissing again, it feels so good to John, he never wants it to stop. Until it does, Sherlock pulls off to run his tongue and lips down his cheek and along his jaw with a sense of urgency and passion he normally utilizes for chasing down runaway criminals. 

“What do you want, John?”

“Ungh…” John manages to get out, taken in by the light kisses along the sensitized skin of his jaw and down his neck. “That...keep doing...that…”

“You like having your neck licked like this,” Sherlock says against his neck, running his tongue oh so slowly along the muscle under his ear. 

His breath hitches, speeds up a little.

“You like to be teased, John.”

“Yes…”

“Where would you like me to tease you?”

John hears him, acknowledges he spoke, thinks about having Sherlock’s hand on his cock and wants to say it, but all he manages to say through his breathless light moans is, “My..cock. Please…”

“You want me to touch your cock, John?” The way Sherlock says ‘cock’ is so foreign, so  
in John’s head. He should say it more often.

John nods. 

“How should I go about that? I need to know what you like.”

“Do it...like you do to yourself…” John rolls his head back in anticipation, feeling a hand palming his jeans and unzipping. There’s a shift, jeans being pulled off of him, and his cock is free and being held. “Oh, Jesus.”

It stays like that for a moment, and when John looks up, Sherlock suddenly appears overcome with anxiety on his features. “Try um, squeezing a little.”

Sherlock does as he says, it feels good and then, jesus. “Too hard!” 

“Sorry.”

“Just move your hands up and down, and squeeze a bit.”

Sherlock does just that, only way too fast. It becomes too intense for John and he has to bring a hand down to stop him. “Wait…”

“What am I doing wrong?”

“Wait. Move off, over there.”

Sherlock shifts and rolls off to the other end of the bed. On his back, his eyes are full of lust and anxiety. It really is his first time. John lies on his side, hovering over Sherlock’s stiff, anxious body. 

“Don’t be so nervous, it’s just me.” He says, as he brings a hand down his torso, to the hem of pyjama waistband. Tugging at it, he pulls it down to free Sherlock’s hardened cock. “Relax…you trust me, right?”

Sherlock nods.

That was the answer he needed as he wraps a hand around his cock, sparking a gasp and a jump from Sherlock. 

“Oh my god…” Sherlock says through quick breaths. “John…”

“Like this.” John says with a gentle squeeze, as small droplets of precome roll over his hand, down his balls, and pooling around the base onto the bed.

With hands gripping the bedsheets, small quick moans fall from his lips through heavy breathing, as John gently pumps his cock in such a perfect way. Sherlock has pleasured himself before but never by another’s hand, having to relinquish control of his own pleasure.

John is watching his face determinedly, his own cock hardening at this display of need below him. “You’re so sexy like this..” John says to him.

Sherlock’s eyes blown with lust looks up at him, something akin to a smile breaches at the corners of his mouth for a half-second. 

Suddenly his back is arching, head thrown back, mouth open, and he’s so close. John pushes him over the brink by speeding up slightly, bringing his lips to Sherlock’s neck and kissing him there.

“Come…” John says, “I’ve got you.”

A jerk of his hips, and he is coming. He moans his way through it, the fluids spurting onto his belly. John strokes him through it until Sherlock tells him to stop, becoming oversensitized.

John smiles to himself triumphantly as he shifts to the bed table, grabbing a box of tissues to clean off the come. 

“Ung...John…”

“Feel good?”

“Amazing…” Sherlock says through panted breaths.

And they lie like that for a few moments, Sherlock recovering, John gets on his back beside him.

“Do you want me to…” Sherlock says.

“Yeah...soon. Let’s just stay like this for a bit.”

To which Sherlock nods.

“So,” Sherlock says, “what now?”

“You had sex. Did you like it?”

“I did.” Sherlock says.

“As disgusting as you thought?”

Sherlock looks up at him, briefly remembering what he had said earlier. 

“I think I might understand it now. It’s pleasurable, yes. But there are layers, relinquishing control, trusting in another person that add to the experience. I believed it was disgusting...the fluid excretions, the sharing and touching. But with you...I don’t seem to mind it.”

John thinks about that for a moment. “Sounds about right.”

“I need more practice.” Sherlock says, rolling to his side to face John, who nods up at him.

“Would you like to be my test subject?”

“Oh God yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright.
> 
> So basically I just hope this story didn't suck. It's my first venture into Johnlock and I want to write more.
> 
> This was my practice thing.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
